


Untitled Impromptu Angel/Spike/Wesley smut

by flaming_muse



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: April Showers Challenge, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-04-16
Updated: 2005-04-16
Packaged: 2017-10-18 09:49:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/187606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flaming_muse/pseuds/flaming_muse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What it says on the packet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled Impromptu Angel/Spike/Wesley smut

**Author's Note:**

> pure PWP, written over e-mail for TheBratQueen and JustHuman
> 
> Originally posted to my LJ on April 16, 2005.

Wesley is spread out between them like an offering, a benign parody of shared meals a hundred years before. But there is no fear in him, only love, and the increasing beat of his heart is due to the pleasure the movements of their mouths on his throat bring, not pain.

He sighs softly as Angel kisses just beneath his ear, repeating the sound as Spike dips his tongue into the hollow of his throat. His arms hold them loosely, his fingers stroking oddly similar hair, soft beneath the gel, for all they would argue about the comparison.

"Think we ought to get him shirts with zippers," Spike mutters as he slowly unfastens the front of Wesley's shirt, kissing the skin he exposes.

"You could just rip it off," Angel suggests. He sucks Wesley's earlobe into his mouth, winning the first faint gasp of the evening. Angel mmms his approval.

Spike can't help but glare. "No fair. I was distracted by this bloody button." He tugs harder than necessary to free it. "Besides, he always complains when we ruin his shirts."

"They aren't free." There is a definite hint of amusement in Wesley's voice.

"Stop that talking, will you?" Spike says to Angel.

Angel happily obliges, lifting his mouth from where it had been sucking a pink flush up on the skin below Wesley's jaw and moving instead to kiss Wesley's lips. It starts gently but quickly turns passionate, and Spike watches with interest, Wesley's hand clutching his hair as well as Angel's, for a few moments before resuming his journey of mouth and fingers down Wesley's body.

Spike pulls Wesley's shirt free from his trousers, ignoring the growing bulge in them for the moment, although the muffled groans from both Wesley and Angel and the pretty picture they make as they kiss makes Spike eager to hurry things along. Still, if there's one thing Angel might be right about - at least sometimes - it's that patience does have its rewards. So he skims his hands over Wesley's flat stomach, kissing along his ribs and feeling the muscles tense and tremble as his fingers and mouth move over them.

Wesley's hand slips from his hair to his shoulder, his next moan louder as Angel moves away from his mouth and sucks on his throat again, this time harder. Spike watches as he circles Wesley's navel with his tongue, the sight of Wesley's head thrown back and Angel's mouth at his neck making his cock throb with arousal for both the present and, less welcome, the ancient past.

"You're so bloody gorgeous, pet," Spike murmurs, rubbing his cheek across Wesley's stomach.

Wesley somehow opens his eyes, making him a far stronger man than Spike is when Angel is nibbling at his throat, and smiles down at him. "So are you. Come kiss me."

And Spike does, slithering up beside him and feeling Wesley's moan in his own mouth they slide their hands into each other's hair and meet in a long, deep kiss.

When Wesley tries to pull Spike's shirt out of his jeans, though, Angel gets his attention by a sharp pinch to his nipple.

"What did we tell you about your job tonight?" Angel asks.

Wesley reaches out to skim his fingers along Angel's cheek, cupping it when the vampire leans into his hand. "You want me to lie back and enjoy myself."

"And why's that, pet?" Spike strips his shirt over his head, anyway, ignoring Angel's brief but appreciative glare.

"You think I've been working too hard," Wesley replies, sliding his other hand up Spike's bare back. "Which I haven't."

"You're also talking too much," Angel says, turning his head to kiss Wesley's palm.

"But, Angel..."

"Shh." And this time it is Spike who gets to silence Wesley's protests with a kiss. He is fully aware that Wesley might be talking just to get kissed, but he really doesn't care.

Unlike Angel, whose mouth is hard and demanding, Wesley's mouth is generous and giving, opening easily to Spike's demands. There is brief flash of eye contact between the vampires and then Wesley is moaning into Spike's mouth, kissing him harder and lifting his hips as the rest of his clothes are quickly removed.

There is some silent argument between Angel and Spike as they decide what to do next. Angel makes a shooing motion with his fingers and waggles his eyebrows, which looks so stupid that Spike wants to break the unspoken agreement they have that they make it look to Wesley like they're working in perfect unison to make him feel wonderful  
instead of constantly battling with each other for more of him. He would say something, too, except that Wesley chooses that moment to slide his tongue into Spike's mouth, and the distraction gives Angel the opportunity to coax Wesley onto his side, yank his own shirt off, and slide up behind him.

There is no doubt in Spike's mind that Angel is beautiful, though he'd certainly never say it to his face, and when he presses close, still kissing Wesley he slides his arm over them both to rest on Angel's waist. Sandwiched between them, Wesley clings to Spike, kissing him deeply and rubbing his cock against Spike's hip, and Spike wonders why he was going to argue with Angel at all.

Spike's jeans are becoming his nemesis, trapping his own erection and keeping him from feeling half of Wesley's skin, but he knows the minute he lets go Angel's going to be on top of Wesley and Spike will have to watch. Again. Which, admittedly, is always a pretty picture and usually ends with Angel sucking him off, which is never a bad thing, or even Angel letting him fuck him, which is even better, but it's really not what Spike wants tonight. He wants Wesley. He wants to get lost in his mouth and in that responsive body. He wants to make him moan and tremble and writhe. He wants Wesley to say *his* name when he comes.

So he's stuck in his sodding jeans with Angel in far more comfortable slacks on Wesley's other side, as Wesley bites at his lips and squirms between them.

Angel certainly seems to be enjoying himself, sliding his hands between them to pinch both Wesley's and Spike's nipples into hardness and leaving a trail of gentle bites down Wesley's spine. Spike gets a good grip on Angel's hip and thrusts against Wesley, pushing that warm body into Angel's cock and making them all groan.

"You're wearing... too many clothes," Wesley gasps out, trying to get his hand down to Spike's fly.

Spike sees no reason to stop him, but Angel catches Wesley's hand before it reaches its target.

"You're not supposed to do anything," Angel reminds him.

"But I *want* to," Wesley says, and Spike can see the need in his eyes. It's a need that goes beyond physical pleasure but instead is a desire to be part of what's happening, not just an object of their attention. Angel can't see his eyes, but perhaps he understands, since he lets go of Wesley's hand.

"Let's get naked," he says, and Spike re-evaluates the situation to decide that Angel's just horny. When Angel rolls to the side to remove his slacks, Spike can certainly see that that was the case.

Sometimes vampire speed comes in really handy even when not facing down demons - besides the one sharing your bed, of course - and they're both back naked and wrapped around Wesley in record time. There's more gasping and groaning, all three of them moving restlessly against each other, and Spike loses track of time. There's lots of kissing - Spike and Wesley as Angel mouths Wesley's throat, Wesley and Angel as Spike sucks and bites at Wesley's nipples, Spike and Angel as Wesley presses back against Angel and licks up Spike's throat. All of it's good, and the breathy soundtrack of moans and whimpers from all of them makes it even better

Kissing isn't enough, though, and despite the fact that Spike knows he could come from just rubbing against Wesley simple frottage wasn't exactly what he had in mind, either. When Wesley arches back as Angel pinches his sensitive nipples, Spike takes the opportunity to get his hand between them again, wrapping both of their cocks in his fist. Wesley is burning hot, and they both shudder as Spike strokes them.

"Spike...," Wesley moans, and Spike tightens his hand, working his hips to give them both greater pleasure.

For a second Spike thinks that Angel's given up when he lets go entirely and rolls away, but before Spike can push Wesley onto his back Angel has returned, a triumphant smirk on his face.

"Ready for me, Wes?" Angel asks, holding up his hand to show Spike his slick fingers before dropping it out of sight, and then Wesley moans Angel's name even more loudly.

Wesley's breath starts to come in short pants, his eyes squeezed shut, and Spike stills his hand, releasing their cocks. He kisses him instead, caressing his face and tasting his moans as Wesley begins to rock back into Angel's fingers.

"That's it. That's it, love. We've got you," Spike murmurs, aching to raise his head to watch Angel's thick fingers moving inside of him. But his patience is rewarded when Wesley opens his eyes, wide pupils nearly eclipsing the bright blue, as Angel's fingers are replaced with his cock. "You're so good, pet."

Wesley smiles at him, his arm tight around Spike's back, as his eyes become unfocused. Angel is grunting and muttering something even beyond Spike's hearing, though he bets it something poetic and romantic about how good Wesley feels. There's a bit more shifting, a gasp or two from them both, and then Angel's pressed all the way inside.

"God, Wes," Angel says, his voice thick. He holds onto Wesley's hip and kisses the nape of his neck. Spike knows how bloody good it feels to be inside of him, and he's more than a little jealous, but then Wesley smiles again, and he remembers this side definitely has its advantages.

Spike brings their cocks together again, making Wesley whimper and arch and Angel thrust in response. Wesley's hand fumbles between them, twining his fingers with Spike's, and when Angel begins to move they all feel it.

If Spike feels a bit left out, at least he gets to watch Wesley's expressions as Angel thrusts, enjoying the waves of pleasure crossing his mobile face. It's not like Wesley's hand doesn't feel good, and when he squeezes their erections Wesley moans his name again, opening his eyes while kissing him.

"We've got you," Spike says again, feeling in the rocking of Wesley's body Angel's thrusts speeding up.

"No," Wesley gasps.

"Yes," Spike insists.

Wesley shakes his head, releasing his hold on their cocks to rest his hand on Angel's on his hip. "Stop. Stop."

"What?" Angel asks, stopping immediately. "What's wrong?"

Spike's heart is in his throat until Wesley speaks.

"Spike, too. I need Spike, too."

"I don't think we're both going to fit," Spike replies with a grin, but he meets Angel's eyes. There's a second's stand-off, and then Angel nods, slowly beginning to withdraw from Wesley's body.

"No!" Wesley says again, pressing back against him. "Let me just... I need to think."

"Right now?" Angel asks, and the utter dismay on his face is so priceless that Spike wishes he could take a picture.

Wesley leans in and kisses Spike again, hard and deep and insistent. Spike loses his train of thought and lets himself be tipped onto his back. Angel follows - like he could do anything else - as Wesley twists and raises himself onto his hands and knees. Angel groans as he shifts into position, sliding himself deep inside Wesley once more, and Wesley selects that moment to dip his head and lick up Spike's shaft.

"Now fuck me," Wesley says and takes Spike's cock into his mouth.

There are times when Spike wants to write poetry about Wesley. He wants to find a way to immortalize in words how much he loves his clever mind, loving heart, and sense of humor. He wants to write sonnets to those expressive blue eyes and the way they make Spike feel just by turning in his direction.

This is not one of those times.

In fact, Spike is rapidly losing the ability to put letters together apart from the odd vowel sound. He can't seem to decide where he most wants to look, at his cock being sucked with such enthusiasm or at Angel arching and thrusting beyond.

Wesley sways with the movements, taking Spike in deeper each time Angel sinks into him, and his eyes are smoldering as they look up to meet Spike's. There's a bright pleasure in them that's of far more than simple arousal, and when he swallows around Spike's cock and gets a hoarse shout in return there's definite pride in his expression before he closes his eyes again.

There's no way that Spike can thrust and not threaten to choke Wesley with Angel pushing into him so hard, so he just leans up on his elbows, watching Wesley between his splayed legs and Angel between *his*. Angel smiles at him the best he can through his panting moans, and they share a moment of complete understanding at how fucking lucky they both are.

Then they go back to *enjoying* their luck, all three of them together, Angel's push into that welcoming body forcing Spike to clench his hands in the sheets as the reverberation of Wesley's moan around his cock threatens to break his precarious grip on his self-control.

"Fuck," Spike gasps, his hips jerking a centimeter off of the mattress. He wants to fuck Wesley's mouth so badly he could yell, and Wesley responds to the fresh burst of pre-come in his mouth by sucking harder.

"You think it feels good, you should see the two of you from here." Angel's eyes are dark, and he reaches out to stroke Wesley's hair.

"Rather be here," Spike says, and he takes the drag of Wesley's teeth up his shaft as agreement.

"Fuck!" Spike says again, this time a warning. Angel thrusts harder, Wesley groans, and Spike feels his orgasm looming just barely out of reach.

"Make him come, Wes," Angel says, his hand gentle on the back of Wesley's head as he intently watches Spike's face. "And then I can really fuck you."

Wesley apparently likes this idea, because it takes him almost no time at all before Spike is writhing beneath him, his head thrown back, caught in the scalding heat of that beautiful mouth.

Spike has to come, he can't *not* come, but he doesn't want to. He desperately doesn't want to. Wesley is stretched between them, loving them both, caring for them both, keeping them together. For that moment they're all working in unison, all loving each other, connecting with each other through him. For that last second of consciousness before his world splits apart he could swear that there's tenderness in Angel's expression and fierce possessiveness in Wesley's touch.

Then he loses it completely, crying out as the dam bursts and his orgasm crashes through him in exhilarating waves.

He hazily sees Angel yank Wesley upright on his knees, chest against back. It's a gorgeous picture, and Spike wishes he were able to focus his eyes more fully to watch. There are more fierce kisses as they twist against each other, pushing, rocking, thrusting, and then Angel is fisting Wesley's swollen cock, and Wesley is coming in pearly ribbons onto the bed.

There's another long moment of tension as Angel arches back and thrusts deep once, twice and comes, holding Wesley to him with bulging arms. Then they fall like dominos, Wesley collapsing almost on top of Spike and Angel beyond him, his arm slung over them both. None of them would call it cuddling, but they still curl up together as close as they can in their shared satiation.

Spike strokes his fingers down Wesley's arm while Angel's hand lazily rubs Spike's hip.

It is usually Spike who breaks the silence first, but tonight it is Wesley. "Well, that was certainly a nice way to be welcomed home." He sounds like the cat who ate the canary, utterly pleased.

Spike kisses Wesley's temple, and Angel does the same to his shoulder blade.

"Still, it was supposed to be us taking care of you," Spike comments. "Think we got mixed up somewhere."

"Oh, no." Wesley smiles broadly at them both. "Believe me, I feel very well taken care of."

"So do we," Angel says and then lets out a long, relaxed sigh.

Wesley settles more comfortably between them, pulling Angel's arm tighter around them both. He yawns.

"Tired, pet?" Spike asks.

Wesley nods. "Busy day."

"We told you you've been working too hard," Angel says.

"But I'm well rewarded," Wesley replies, and the contentment in his voice makes them all smile.

**Author's Note:**

> There is a [prequel](http://archiveofourown.org/works/187609) to this fic.


End file.
